


There's dancing and there's dancing

by honeybee592



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-17
Updated: 2014-03-17
Packaged: 2018-01-16 01:27:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1326667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeybee592/pseuds/honeybee592
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While waiting for the elevator at Engineering, Garrus discovers yet another definition of 'dancing'. </p><p>(It's not that porny, hence the T rating)</p>
            </blockquote>





	There's dancing and there's dancing

Garrus tapped his foot, waiting for the elevator to return. He’d popped down to Engineering to have a little chat with Adams about this refit of the Normandy. After the Alliance had commandeered her, certain things just weren’t running as well as they could be. It’s okay now though; Adams had control of the situation. He gave up waiting for the elevator, _some things don’t change_ , turned and leaned against the window sill, gazing out over the Shuttle Bay below. _Well, would you look at that._ Shepard and James were sparring— _dancing_ as Jimmy called it. _Looks pretty heated_ , too. Garrus flicked his mandibles. Nothing like watching a good fistfight. Well, apart from being in one.

Despite James’ size and solid mass, Shepard had him backing up, ducking and weaving, trying to get one up on the wound up bundle of energy that was Commander Shepard. But the pair were evenly matched. He landed a couple of good hits, one on the chin that had Shepard staggering, and another to her stomach that almost had her doubled over.

Garrus liked James. Shepard had a way of surrounding herself with the best people she could find, and James was definitely good. A little brash, a little bold, very eager. Par for the course when you’re young. He’d calm down under Shepard’s guidance. And boy, did Shepard take the role of mentor seriously. He went on every mission, joined every debrief, even sat in on all the boring diplomatic meetings. James was smarter than he looked, but Garrus wasn’t sure the marine realised just how much Shepard was grooming him for command.

Garrus watched as she threw a punch. James ducked, barking out a laugh as he returned his own. But she’d tricked him, and with a grace that Garrus found so beautiful, she flipped James, slamming him on his back. She held him there, straddled over his waist, the back of her tee shirt dark with sweat. She hadn’t pinned his arms though, a dangerous oversight, so James took advantage, rolling slightly, shoving—no, _easing_ his knee between her legs. Shepard slipped, sitting half-on half-off his lap.

James had his hands on Shepard’s back, but he wasn’t taking advantage of that knee between her legs, wasn’t flipping her, wasn’t exerting dominance. One hand settled on her waist, the other continued its journey south, reaching her ass, and— oh. This wasn’t a fight any more. _Spirits_. He should go. He backed away from the window, punching the up button repeatedly, praying to EDI to speed up that damn elevator. Finally the doors opened. Stepping in, he breathed a sigh of relief. He pushed the button for the Crew Deck, got to get back to the Main Battery, calibrations and all. But the lift went down. Oh, crap crap crap.

“EDI? What the hell is going on?” He called, backing against the elevator like he could phase through it. He screwed his eyes shut, teeth gritted.

The doors opened on the Shuttle Bay. He didn’t hear any protests or scuffling so he peeked out through one eye. Vega had finally flipped Shepard, her tee bunched up over her breasts, his face buried between them. One of her hands had snuck up under his tee, pulling the fabric up, exposing a triangle of defined muscle. Her fingertips curled, raking their way down his back, leaving three long, red scratches in their wake. A moan escaped from Shepard, then a low growl from James. Garrus opened and closed his mouth, unable to look away, unable to even blink. _Leave, Vakarian_. _Now_.

James knelt up, peeling off his tee, throwing it behind him and almost turning enough for the elevator to enter into his peripheral. Garrus stood stock still, waiting until James returned his full attention to Shepard’s belt buckle before he tiptoed to the panel. He pushed the Crew Deck button as lightly as possible, willed the doors to close silently. They did.

He didn’t let out his breath ‘till the doors opened on the safety of the Crew Deck. Spirits, he knew Shepard had taken James under her wing, but like _that_? He’d be giving the Bay a wide berth from now on.


End file.
